


The Lord of Hell's Pit

by kewltie



Series: Magnetic [15]
Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Bodice-Ripper, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kewltie/pseuds/kewltie
Summary: Donghae comes to Hell's Pit to find more about the world his husband belong to and what he may find out may not what what he is looking for but then again Donghae is not exactly what he seems either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Moving some old stuff. Part of my [regency au](http://kewltie.tumblr.com/tagged/regency-au).

"What a proper gentleman of high society doing here in Hell’s Pit?" the guard demands, eyebrow raising and baring his yellow teeth at Donghae in a snarl of disgust.  
  
Hell’s Pit, even the name hides nothing of its nature and Donghae has choose to walk into the lion’s den.  
  
"I am here to see my husband," Donghae says stiffly, locking his knees up and refusing to be cowed. It took him a lot of courage to get here, sneaking his way into the under-belied of Seoul’s dark and seedy underworld without permission and anyone knowing, and Donghae has no intention of going back without seeing Hyukjae.  
  
"And who might he be?" the guard asks, lips twisted into a sneer. "Is he one of those fools that gamble away his life saving in a game thinking the lady luck would come to bless him? Or a scoundrel seeking pleasure in a woman’s bosom or between the thighs of a young man?" The guard narrows his eyes and gives Donghae an almost pitiful look. "Either way, people who come here are not worth your time, sweetheart. It’s best you leave them because no good person comes here for a good reason."  
  
Donghae clenches his fist and bites back scathing remark. He hates being talk down like this as if he was a clueless child. Donghae may not know much about the other side of Seoul, but he is not naive in the ways of the world.  
  
Donghae meets the gaze of the guard head on and lifts up his chin defiantly. “I believe you have heard of him, his name is Lee Eunhyuk,” Donghae reveals, knowing the full effect of the name will have on the guard.  
  
The guard stiffens up and takes an awkward step back as if Donghae said the devil’s name. “You are—?”  
  
Donghae nods and pulls back his hood. “The Earl of Bilfer and husband to Lee Eunhyuk, the Lord of Hell’s Pit, so do I have your permission to enter now?” he asks, looking at the guard expectantly.  
  
"O-of course, sir," the guard says, lowering his head in respect. "Anything for my lord’s beloved husband."  
  
Donghae internally winces at the word beloved, but if it get him through the door he could care less how untrue that is.  
  
The guard half-turns toward the door to rhythmically knock several times on it, which Donghae assumes is the password for the people inside the building to open the door.  
  
The metal door jerks open and a woman wearing a low-cut teal dress greets him. Donghae’s cheeks heat up and he looks everywhere but directly at her because her breasts are practically falling out.  
  
He never been more horrified and embarrassed at such a show of skin and this is a reminder he’s not in part of Seoul where such blatant glimpse of flesh would be consider scandalous.  
  
A quick glance at the woman’s face, she lasciviously grins and sends him a teasing wink, seemingly amused at his reaction. “Come along my lord, the party awaits you,” she says and gestures for him to follow her as she spins around toward the inside of the building.  
  
The door opens up to a grand luxurious hall of hanging golden chandeliers and soft ambiance lighting, there are decorative vases and lounge seats spread throughout and occasionally there is a couple or several people enjoying themselves on it and maybe more with the way one lady has a young scantily clad man on his knees feeding her grapes with his mouth.   
  
Donghae tries not stare and keeps his eyes concentrate directly in front of him, but he never felt more overdressed then this second. He pulls his cloak tightly around him and quickly put up his hood, there’s something about this place that eats away at his armor and makes him nervous, even under the eyes of the watchful guards that are spaced throughout the hall, Donghae feels entirely too defenseless and open, but—he continues onward anyway.  
  
Donghae and the woman quickly passes through the grand hall and the closer they get to their destination, the louder the voices ahead of them are.  
  
When they finally arrived at wherever they are, right in front of them is a giant mass of a red curtain that hangs from one side of the room to the other and the noise comes directly from the other side of the curtain and it was terribly loud, a mixture of boisterous laughter and yelling that rise brazenly behind the curtain as if it has nothing to hide.  
  
Before Donghae could do anything, the woman bows out, leaving him standing there alone.  
  
Donghae stands rigidly in his spot, not quite sure what he should do now that he is here, because on the other side of the curtain is Seoul’s seedy underworld and he doesn’t have to do this, he could easily turn back and nobody would be the wiser… but Donghae isn’t a coward to run for the hill just because this is a completely different environment for him.  
  
He finds a yellow cord that hang from the top of the curtain and pulls on it slightly before he could have a second thought about it. The curtain slowly separates and between the folds Donghae has a sneak peek of what the other side of Seoul would look like.  
  
There are men and women crowding around table of cards and dices and people sitting on each other lap, kissing and touching so freely that Donghae’s once again feels heated just looking at them but these people aren’t just random people of the streets, who manages to find their way in here. Donghae recognizes the Duchess of Elin, the Count of Sicamore, and so many more of his peerages doing things that he has never thought they would do in the proper light of society’s eyes.  
  
There is even a center stage for a boxing tournament where a man is having a bout against a woman, and she has him on floor and beating his face to pulp with her bare knuckles much to delight of the crowd and people exchanging money.  
  
The cacophony noise of Hell’s Pit starts to bleed into one another, flesh and voices of people doing things, saying things that Donghae always been taught is wrong and so terribly wrong is all out in front of him and he finds that while it’s unnerving to him, it hasn’t scare him away.  
  
So, this is the other side of Seoul, having none of the superficiality of the upper world and baring it all, its ugliness and sinful secrets so shamelessly and wantonly that Donghae has to blink.  
  
This place is Hyukjae’s cradle, a den of vices: for drunkards to indulge in their poison of choice, of sins of the flesh, and a gamble with lady luck. This is definitely not a place for one of Donghae’s noble stature but—but this strange ambiance, a place where lords and ladies of noble breeding can mingle and drink with low blooded commoners without having to think twice, the society’s etiquette and rules are thrown out of the window, and debauchery may bring fear of ruination on the other side of Seoul but here—it is their lifeblood.  
  
There is a sort of freedom in it, Donghae thinks and though he doesn’t quite get it entirely but he can see it.  
  
Donghae may not be use to this—side of Seoul but, throwing all precaution into the wind, he came here to learn. More than anything, Donghae loathes to be on the side of ignorant, even more so when it comes to Hyukjae.  
  
Their marriage may be a shame and Donghae is very much new to Hyukjae’s world but Donghae is determine to know more about his estrange and often time enigmatic husband and the world that he came from, even if it means he has to consort with the denizens of Hell.  
  
But what is a little sin if it’s mean keeping the sanctity of their marriage?  
  
  
  
"Sir, care for a game of Vingt-et-un? We have an extra spot for you," the dealer asks him.  
  
Donghae blinks in surprise at being address and he pulls the cloak tighter around himself, trying to seem inconspicuous as possible but it doesn't seem to be working though as all eyes from the gaming table are suddenly on him.  
  
"Thank you," he says, brushing off the invite, "but I'll rather just watch." He rather not bring attention to himself lest Hyukjae caught on that he is here and he'll be in so much trouble.  
  
"Watching isn't as much fun as playing though," the dealer points out and the other players around the table nod and murmur in agreement.  
  
Donghae opens his mouth, the refusal is on the tip of his tongue but his hands itch to join them ever since he stopped by their table to watch the dealing of the cards and the thrill of a game where an entire fortune can be won or lost with just handful of cards.   
  
He shouldn't. It wouldn't be proper, but then a person of his stature shouldn't be here in the first place yet here he is now.  
  
Donghae shrugs and thinks why the hell not. "I guess I'll play then," he says, with barely contained excitement. It's not every day that he get to visit a gaming hell and play a game Vingt-et-un without any supervision and with the expectation of someone borne into high society hanging over his shoulder. Right now he's just a nameless person who is invited to a game and it's just one game anyway, what harm could it bring, and besides nobody will ever know.  
  
The players around the table scoot over to make room for him and Donghae gingerly takes his seat between a rough bearded looking man who looks like any drunkard on the street and a man in a blue ornate mask wearing fine dark blue waistcoat and gold buttons, a person of high society most definitely, Donghae thinks.  
  
He shifts in his seat to get comfortable as a crowd form around them for the next round of Vingt-et-un. Donghae's eyes trial across the table, taking in the appearance of the other players. There is a lady wearing an elaborate maroon color dress sitting two seats away from him, and another ordinary looking man wearing a simple dress shirt sitting opposite of the lady. That makes five of them total participating in the next round.  
  
It sorts of a strange feeling seeing all these people from different background sitting around the table like there's nothing peculiar about it, but maybe it isn't so strange after all.  
  
The dealer starts to shuffles his heck and smiles, making his eyes the corner of his eyes crinkle. "Are we ready to play, ladies and gentlemen?" he asks.  
  
A murmur of assent rose among them and the dealer starts to deal the cards to everyone at the table.  
  
"Thank you," Donghae says, when a face-up card is place in front of him.  
  
It's a seven and Donghae quickly casts a glance around the table to gauge all other players’ card. There's a nine for the man in the dress shirt, a king for the lady in the maroon dress, a jack for the bearded man, a three for the masked man, and finally a ten for the dealer.  
  
The dealer deal another set of cards, but this time they're face down. "Please place your bet now, sirs and ma'am," he says, once he has finished handing out a card to each of them.  
  
Donghae carefully picks up both of his cards and flips the faced down card over till he sees a five and seven. He puts them down again once he got the numbers in his head. His cards aren't good, twelve wouldn't give him much hope of winning but if he ask for another card there's a high chance of him going bust. Still--it wouldn't be a gamble if there's no risk in it.  
  
He pulls out his pouch of money, tucked between his belt loops, and pulls out twenty-five gold coins. He puts the stack of coins on the table with the other coins that were already lay down by the other players.  
  
There's a quiet murmur that arose with Donghae's bet and even the dealer's raises an eyebrow at Donghae's stack of coins, a number that was higher than the rest.  
  
Donghae thinks he should be more bother that he's practically throwing money on the table since it was only three months ago when he couldn't even afford to buy a new suit because his family was drowning in debts. Now, though with Hyukjae's help and the backing of his enterprises and all the money he apparently make underground in a gambling den like this and Hyukjae been generous enough to give him an allowance each month to spend it however he please. Donghae got nothing better to do with it so doesn't feel a tiny bit guilty throwing Hyukjae's money around, after all, rather he like it or not, Donghae did married Hyukjae for his money.  
  
It's time he own up to that at least, by shamelessly spending Hyukjae's money of course.  
  
"Feeling confident about your cards, huh?" the mask man on his left asks, scooting his chair closer to Donghae. Hand brushing Donghae's shoulder and Donghae jerks out of the touch.  
  
Donghae grits his teeth and chooses to ignore the man, and hopes that he'll takes the unsubtle hint and go away.  
  
"Another card for you, sir?" the dealer asks.  
  
Donghae nods stiffly and taps his finger on the table to give a signal to go ahead. Before Donghae could go and check his newly acquired card, the mask man leans close to him and presses his body up against his side.  
  
"You smell good," he says huskily, breathing heavily against Donghae's right ear and Donghae shudders in disgust.  
  
Normally in these sort of situation, Donghae would just get up and walk away and try not to cause any problem because punching someone in the face just because they sleazy dirt bag is not at all proper behavior for one of his station but here in Hell's Pit, Donghae doesn't think they will mind it too much if Donghae throw the man on the ground and let him taste blood in his mouth because Donghae has very little patience for these kind of things.  
  
Lesser still for arrogant presumptuous asshole who thinks they can just do whatever they want.  
  
Donghae stiffens up when he feels the brush of a hand sliding his across his inner thigh and he is so completely done with this.  
  
Donghae abruptly pushes himself out of his seat, the chair slides out a loud screech, much to the shock of everyone else around him. "Don't touch me," he hisses, turning his head to face his molester and the man eyes go startlingly wide and before he could say anything to counter to Donghae, Donghae kicks the man's chair and shoves him down onto the floor.  
  
The people around them scatters like mice as the mask man stumbles to the ground and Donghae glares at him. "I don't appreciate such blatant disrespect of my person," he says calmly as possible, as his fists clench tightly at his side and he tries really hard not to give the man a bloody nose as something else to think about because It's bad enough that a crowd is forming around them and everyone seems to be looking at them but Donghae needs to get away now before he attracts the wrong sort of attention.  
  
Someone grabs hold of Donghae's shoulder just as Donghae thought about making a quick exit and he so does not have the time for this.  
  
"Let me go you philistine or I'll--" the sentence dies on his tongue before he could even finish that thought as he is yanks around to face the furious eyes of his husband. "H-Hyukjae," he says, completely shock.  
  
The scowl on Hyukjae's face shuts down all further words Donghae about to say. Hyukjae chooses to ignore Donghae to shift his focus on the mask man lying on floor who looks at Hyukjae with wide and frighten eyes.  
  
Hyukjae releases his grip on Donghae's shoulder, but he trials his hand down to hold onto Donghae's wrist instead as if Donghae would run away any moment now and how right he was. But even if he didn't have Hyukjae's hand to anchor him to the spot, Donghae's legs seem useless and stuck just by the mere presence of Hyukjae being here. He hasn't seen Hyukjae for five days now and living apart despite being married is a strange and lonely thing for Donghae and he doesn't want to say he miss Hyukjae but he really misses Hyukjae.  
  
Hyukjae steps forward and takes a dazed Donghae with him as he approaches the man laying the floor. There are several number of rough looking men appearing out of nowhere and shouting to the crowd to get back whatever they're doing and there's nothing to watch here. The crowd quickly disperses and even the players from the Vingt-et-un's table disappear too leaving Donghae, Hyukjae, a group of Hell's Pit enforcers, the dealer, and the almost pitiful man on the floor looking like he might combust any moment now.   
  
Hyukjae smiles down at the man, something perverse and dreadful and not the smiles that Hyukjae sometimes rewarded Donghae when he'd done something that particularly pleasing to Hyukjae. Donghae doesn't like this smile at all but this is another side of his husband that Donghae rarely get to see and didn't he say he wanted to know all of Hyukjae? Even the part of him that scare Donghae a little?  
  
He pins the mask man's hand to the ground with his foot and digs into the man's hand mercilessly. "Taeyo, what have I told you about touching things that aren't yours? Need I remind you that I am not a forgiving person when it comes to those that break my rules not once but twice?" he asks, lifting his foot away now.  
  
"P-please Eunhyuk, I--I didn't mean to," Taeyo chokes out, pulling himself up to a sitting position, "I promise I won't do it again."  
  
"I would be more incline to believe you if this was your first infraction but," Hyukjae says, giving a careless shrug, "I'm not a kind man you see and today you touch someone you should never even look at, let alone touch with your filthy hand."  
  
Taeyo casts a quick glance his way and looks horrified as if realizing Donghae's importance and Donghae almost feel sorry for the man but not quite. He's not particularly kind either since this isn't Taeyo's first time committing such act and he thinks of all the men and women who'd been molested by Taeyo up to now and that makes Donghae mad thinking about it.  
  
"Drag him out and make sure he'll won't be using that hand to touch anyone inappropriately again," Hyukjae orders to his men and they hurry to pick Taeyo crumbling form up from the floor and drags him out, and nobody in Hell's Pit seems bother be all that much bother by the commotion that Donghae had inadvertently cause as if this is the kind of thing that happen often here in the Hell's Pit and maybe it is.  
  
Donghae stares at the man standing before him now and there's a sense of ruthlessness and grim sort of way that comes with Hyukjae's decision and Donghae's chest tightens at the jarring difference of the Hyukjae he witnessed earlier in their marriage and to the one that is now before him.  
  
There is many things about their marriage that is a lie and that while they fool their family in thinking it's a love match but Donghae has always assume that Hyukjae was honest to him at least because he has always been kind and indulging of Donghae's wills even when Hyukjae remains mostly indifference to their marriage. He'd set up a separate house for Donghae to live in and let him do whatever he wanted as long as they continue this charade of a marriage. Donghae has more freedom being married to Hyukjae then when he was unwed but that kind of life is unbearingly lonely and Donghae finds himself trying to find excuses to see his husband just to cure it.  
  
Though if it was just simply loneliness, he could have find a companion somewhere else and Donghae doesn't think Hyukjae would mind that either but Donghae longs for a life similar to his parents and a love that stir the heart and excite him and Donghae is determine to have something more profound out of their loveless marriage, so even if it means he has to cross into Hyukjae's world to understand him he'll do it.  
  
But even though he prepare for all the possible scenarios he certainly didn't expect this. He doesn't know if the charming, quiet, and reserve man that he supposedly married is the same one as this one that appeared before him now and that's almost scarier than walking into the belly of Seoul's underworld unaccompanied and stalking the place that his husband own, where the people of Seoul goes to commit sins away from the critical eyes of society.  
  
Donghae doesn't know what he should feel right now. Fear maybe? But that is more of a shock seeing that side of Hyukjae then any true fear. Betrayal then? But Hyukjae didn't lie to Donghae when he said the things he did in Hell's Pit were not for the faint of hearts and if Donghae were to ever see him there he may not come to think of Hyukjae as a good person anymore (he had smile grimly at Donghae when he said that and Donghae had assured him that it wouldn't happened but he didn't know at that time what that meant). Or is it really hurt? That ultimately, Hyukjae didn't trust Donghae at all to let him see this side of him, that he thinks Donghae would be that fickle and so easy influence that he--he would change his opinion of Hyukjae just like that.  
  
Donghae's heart pains at that thought because in Hyukjae's eyes Donghae is still that childish useless noble he meet and proposed to, and who could never understand him and his world and Donghae could say anything and try his hardest to prove otherwise but it wouldn't change anything. Hyukjae just doesn't care about him at all.  
  
With that conclusion, Donghae's knees almost buckles under the weight of his epiphany but Hyukjae catches him before he collapses on the ground.  
  
"Are you alright?" Hyukjae holds him up and looks frantically at him. He touches Donghae's face in a gentle caress and the place where he touch leaves an almost a heated hand print on Donghae's skin.  
  
Donghae hasn't been this close to Hyukjae in a while and his cheeks start to flush at the close proximity. His breath stuttered and shallow, and he's dizzy by Hyukjae's warmth radiating off of him and oh how he wants to bury himself in Hyukjae's arms but he's so afraid Hyukjae might push him away and that is something he couldn't live with.  
  
Donghae nods numbly as he finds his balance again. "I'm fine," he murmurs, pulling away from Hyukjae.  
  
"Did Taiyo hurt you in anyway?" Hyukjae asks, worry and fear clearly etches onto his face. He looks Donghae up and down in close examination, checking for any open sign of wounds.  
  
Donghae shakes his head, almost relieve in seeing the change of demeanor from Hyukjae. Hope flares within him and he feels the cripplingly need to quench it down but--but if Hyukjae can care this much about him then surely the day Hyukjae may feel more for Donghae will come. "Nothing I couldn't handle."  
  
Then just like that the mood around them shifts to muted tense atmosphere as Hyukjae's face twists into a cold fury. "What are you doing here, Donghae?" he demands. "You should be back home and not anywhere near here at all. I specifiably told you not to come here, this isn't a place that you can just enter however you like. It's dangerous."  
  
"Um," Donghae says, his mind racing with a hundred carefully thought out reasons and excuses that he had prepared but the nervous pitter-patter of his heart swallows it, and what came out instead is, "I was just wandering around and somehow stumble into here. I didn't know that this was your place though!"  
  
Hyukjae looks unimpressed and Donghae wishes he could disappear into the floor because that was absolutely terrible. Even a child could come up with something better than that.  
  
Donghae steps back nervously because this is an argument he's not prepare to fight.  
  
"Sir," the dealer calls out to them but none of them care enough to response.  
  
Hyukjae narrows his eyes. "Don't play dumb, Donghae. It's not a good look on you." He grabs hold of Donghae's wrist again to keep him in place and Donghae doesn't have the strength or the heart to pull out because Hyukjae even when he's so angry at Donghae, Donghae is delighted. At least that's better than the usual indifference he gets, that means he care enough to be angry at you, his mind helpfully whispers.   
  
Donghae frowns and opens his mouth to protests, "I'm not--"  
  
"Sir," the dealer tries again to get their attention.  
  
Hyukjae jerks his head around to face the dealer.  "What, Suho?" he snaps.  
  
Suho scratches his head, looking so hesitant and nervous to be under Hyukjae's scrutiny now. "Um, that sir over there just won our most recent round of Vingt-et-un," Suho says, looking like he rather be anywhere but here.  
  
"He what?" Hyukjae demands.  
  
"I did?" Donghae eyes go wide and he jerks his wrist out of Hyukjae's hold, hurried back toward the table and finds all three of his cards faced up.  
  
"I won?" he asks again, staring at the five, seven, and an eight laying innocently on the table.  
  
"Yes," Suho says behind him, "your score is the highest point this round and nobody could beat it."  
  
"Hyukjae, did you see that?! I won!" Donghae says, turning around to face Hyukjae and nearly bouncing in his spot in excitement. He never won anything like this before, and it's exhilarating. Donghae thinks he can understand why people gamble if it means that every time they won, it feels like this, so high on life and not even if the world come crashing down can ruin this moment for him. It's addictive and he gets it, why some people throw their entire fortune just to chase after such feeling, like he's untouchable.  
  
But he's not as he meets Hyukjae's icy glare. Donghae's world refocus and shifts back to where he is, a gambling hell and right in front of him is his husband who looks about to explode at any moment now.  
  
"Donghae," Hyukjae says tightly, his handsome face twisted into something awful and so, so not please at all, "we are going to have a talk."  
  
Right, Donghae is still in so much trouble. 


	2. Knightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyukjae gets unwanted a bedroom intruder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains: slight assault, ptsd

Donghae slips into the bedchamber with the all the poise and grace reserved for thieves and philistines. His steps are careful and soft as he navigates his way around the dimly lit bedchamber with the chamberlight clutched in his right hand, lighting his path.

If his mother can see him now, sneaking around in his own home like some sort of wanton criminal, she would have a conniption at such an indecent act but unluckily for her and Donghae, she’s not there to reign in his more impulsive actions.  

Donghae finally reaches the foot end of the bed, tiptoeing that last few steps toward the headboard, wary of disturbing the other occupant of the room. As he makes his way forward, he is seized by the sudden feeling that he’s maybe doing something wrong. Terribly wrong, like a highway robbery wrong.

Though robbing a stagecoach may be easier than this, Donghae assumes a little wistfully, and perhaps even less nerve wreaking.  

But, in the half year since they were married, Donghae had been in Hyukjae’s bedchamber only a handful of times and four of those times were permissive intrusion, with one of them being on their _marriage night_ , which spoke a hell lot more about their marriage then any idle gossips that often surround them.

He knows that Hyukjae puts a lot of value on his privacy and guard his secrets like a dragon hoarding his treasure.  It’ll be a hundred years before Hyukjae would even consider the thought of letting Donghae in to his fortress of solitude but Donghae never been one to twiddle his thumbs and wait around.

He rather knock it down with brute force of will, so here he is trying to slink his way into his own husband’s bed it is, like a two-bit tramp with very little shame.

Admittedly, it’s not one of his more dignifying moments but Hyukjae somehow always manage to make Donghae scrap whatever self-respect he has in the hope for something more.

Donghae inches closer, setting the chamberstick on the bedside table alongside the candlestick burning still into the night, with the twin flames flickering bright and casting bleak shadows against the wall now. It’s strangely eerie and quiet in the bedchamber, not even a peep from Hyukjae, except for the loud thumping in Donghae’s chest as he draws closer to the bed and the person occupying it.

He perches on the edge of the bed, the mattress giving in under his weight and peers over Hyukjae’s prone body. What he see after that gives his heart a tight squeeze and sends further forward till his head is hovering over Hyukjae’s sleeping form.

Hyukjae once said to Donghae that he’s not a quiet sleeper in lieu of Donghae’s demand why they have to continue to sleep in separate bedchambers despite Hyukjae moving back into their Injou Manor in Gangnam-gu this past month, but—

Hyukjae has the sheets bunch up in his hands, clasped so tight in his grip that Donghae can see the strain of his muscles holding it in place like he is clinging to a life preserver, the only thing that can keep him from drowning. The rest of him lay motionless on the bed as still as any funeral. He holds himself so rigid and tightly wound up that Donghae can’t help thinking that Hyukjae must have purposely force his body to stay immobile like that, but why.

The answer to that couldn’t come soon enough as he gazes upon Hyukjae’s face and the painful expression written all over it.

Hyukjae’s face is a contortion of agony and pain as sweat bead at his brows. He looks like he’s suffering, tormented by entities that Donghae can’t see nor touch, one that exist only in Hyukjae’s sleep. With such a troubled expression, seemingly absorbed in discomfort, it doesn’t take much for Donghae to guess of the phantoms that visit Hyukjae’s dreams nightly because even when Hyukjae had left the battlefield behind the war continues to follow Hyukjae home and into his sleep.

Formally, it’s known as “battle fatigue” but behind closed doors everyone call it being “haunted”, and Donghae can understand why, because for these soldiers and Hyukjae the memories and traumas of the past refuse to die and has attach themselves to them like ghosts, continue to trouble the living long aftermath.  

Donghae bites down on his lower lip, hard enough to break skin and taste iron on his tongue. A helpless grunt of frustration is stuck in his throat. The things he doesn’t know about his own husband, the things that aren’t said between them, and the things he is unable to do for Hyukjae are the same things that has him crawling to Hyukjae’s bed in the middle of night to find resolution to it.

An abrupt wounded whine coming from Hyukjae has Donghae reaching down and brushes the sweaty bangs clinging to Hyukjae’s forehead. Then, he lightly touches the tenseness between the brows of Hyukjae’s face, evening out the hard lines and makes a small gentle noise to hopefully soothe some of Hyukjae’s troubles away. It’s the least he can do for Hyukjae.

It’s quiet and almost too peaceful as he tentatively trails his hand down from Hyukjae’s forehead to his cheek, a too shy kiss that he wouldn’t dare deliver in the light of day, and watches Hyukjae’s face softens up and leans into his touch.

The corners of his lip start tugging upward and he could feel the bubbling delight starting to stir within him and it’s—Hyukjae’s eyes fly open and his hands shot out as quick as a bullet, catching both of Donghae’s wrists in his stronger grip.

He twists Donghae around with enough force that slams his back against the mattress and knocks the air right out of Donghae’s lungs.

It’s a swift second but that’s all it takes for Donghae to find their position had switched and he’s pinned to the bed like an insect behind glass, with his wrists held over the top of his head in an awkward angle.  

Donghae stares up at Hyukjae’s darken face, eyes stunned and with blood rushing to his head in dizzying fever at the turn of event. He’s trapped under Hyukjae and there’s very little he can do about it.

Hyukjae’s hands are no larger than Donghae’s; they’re similar in height and stature, if Donghae wasn’t broader in the shoulders and chest area but the way Hyukjae’s has his grip on Donghae is like steel cuff on his wrists, immovable and unbreakable; Donghae can’t budge it with all his might.

That strength tells of an experience and an ease with aggression that makes Donghae a little uncomfortable, but most of all it speaks of a history of brutality that Hyukjae had once tread on and of wars that had played out on printed text that Donghae had only read in the Sunday’s morning paper. They weren’t his concern, his war, and most certainly not his problem but Hyukjae is a living and breathing example of it right here and it has never been more real than now.  

But even so Hyukjae keep his ghosts to himself. He doesn’t speak of it, doesn’t acknowledge it in the light of day and no matter how much Donghae had tried to care for his open wound, Hyukjae prefers to bleed out than ask for help.

If only Hyukjae would let him in, doesn’t carry his nightmares like they were his burden to bare.  What a selfless bastard, Donghae thinks bitterly.  

He looks into the pair of dark and hooded eyes, murky in its sleep still that they don’t seem to be all there or aware of the situation around them. Hyukjae’s breathing is heavy above him, his breath drawn out in long laborious gush like his lungs are going to collapse any moment if he doesn’t get enough air into it. His grip on Donghae’s wrists is tight, pinching the blood vessels underneath, that Donghae would feel the bruises for days afterward. With shoulders taut, his entire body is one large tense line than threatens to spring forward and lash out if Donghae isn’t careful.  

So Donghae doesn’t fight it.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s alright, Hyukjae, I’m here,” he says, adopting a softer tone in his voice. “You’re safe with me.”

Hyukjae blinks slowly, apparently still in the clutch of his nightmare and then the dawning realization must have hit him because, his eyes seem to light up in recognition. “What, Donghae is that--?” confusion wring all over his face, “what are you—?” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?” he demands, sudden and severe, his voice pitched deep like the sound had just clawed its way out of his mouth.  

Despite the light coming back into his eyes, the tension however doesn’t leave Hyukjae’s body as though he’s still in a fight mode and can’t turn it off yet and the hold on Donghae’s wrists only tightens further, squeezing the circulation from his wrist and has Donghae slightly wincing in pain.

Donghae can barely shake Hyukjae’s off and the strength he exudes over Donghae makes his heart thrums against his ribcage, rattling loudly and rapidly but fear isn’t what he feeling, fear would be easier to explain then the slow crawl of heat sinking under his skin and rushing to his head, making him all warm and fuzzy and hums with an unspoken desire.  

Hyukjae’s bare chest is sweaty and heaving, almost glistening with sweat and Donghae can see each distinct muscle working his arms and his chest, holding this small compact person up and making him more dangerous than anything Donghae could even fathom, yet—Donghae chews on his lower lip as a plan set in motion.

Trapped under Hyukjae and with his wrists held in Hyukjae’s grip, Donghae squirms, legs rubbing up against Hyukjae’s inner thighs causing his nightshirt to ride up, revealing long creamy bare skin underneath that touches Hyukjae.  The split second contact is all it takes to send electricity up his spine and has him tingling with heat.

Hyukjae abruptly lets go of him as though he was burn in the heat of their contact and Donghae almost miss the loss of it but that doesn’t stop his wiggling.

Face taut and seemingly in pain, Hyukjae pinches Donghae’s side. “Stop that,” he hisses, sounding hoarse and just on the edge of desperation.

Donghae doesn’t smile but it’s a near thing.

Hyukjae pushes himself away, rolling to the other side and putting enough distance between them that they could fill an entire ocean in the space that divide them. He sits with one knee up, looking distraught and worn out and hair in disarray but he looks just as hauntingly beautiful against light of the candles just as he would in the day. Actually he might be even more so, Donghae thinks feeling the violent thumping of his heart still, because stripped of all his barriers and pretenses and looking more vulnerable then Donghae had ever seen him, somehow he makes Donghae weak.

Donghae’s lower his gaze from Hyukjae’s face to his chest and with the candle light hitting Hyukjae’s at the perfect angle, Donghae can finally the fine scars plotted out all over his body, some clearly from bullet wounds and other continues to be a mystery but all are stories that Hyukjae had yet to tell Donghae. Hyukjae’s life a map of violence drawn all over his skin and Donghae hurts all over to see it.

Hyukjae tiredly pinches the bridge of his nose before turning toward Donghae and lets out a deep profound sigh. “Why are you here, Donghae?”

Donghae takes one long breath to compose himself, calming down his heart before he sits up, drawing up on his elbows and raises a brow.  “Sleeping,” he replies as though it wasn’t obvious enough.

Hyukjae’s jaw ticks. “You can’t sleep here, you know that,” he says, almost accusatory. “You have your own bed.”  

Donghae frowns. “I’m sorry that you’re too focus on your job to see what is right in front of you,” he snaps. “The servants are getting suspicious and has been sending surreptitious glance my way because you refuse to attend to my bed or let me in yours.”

“Let them talk, it’s none of their damn business,” Hyukjae says roughly.

Donghae narrow his eyes as a twinge of annoyance settle in his chest. “You may not care about what other say or think but I _refuse_ to be made a laughingstock,” he huffs, crossed. “It’s bad enough that the moment I leave the manor, all eyes are drawn to me and I have to deal with being the subject of their asinine chatters but now I have to endure the pitying looks in my own home too? Do you know how humiliating that is?” he says with slow deliberation, voice purposely dropping an octave and there’s a hitch of hurt in his voice that leaves very little room to the imagination.

Hyukjae looks away, face strained and shoulders drawn tight. “I didn’t mean—“ he begins but Donghae refuses to let him have his turn. “You never mean anything,” Donghae cuts him off, lips pursing. “I get it, this High Society stuff seems silly and annoys you because we’re all snobbish elite who puts too much focus on appearance and wealth and on material things that are meaningless to you but for me it’s _important_. This is what I grew on, this my world and I can’t discard it just because you don’t care. My reputation is all in tattered as it is, I’m all but gold digging hussy from a fallen noble family who managed to dig my claws into you to the public and now if the fact got out that you can barely stand to sleep in the same room as me, do you know what they would say to that? I’ll never be able to leave this manor without the endless mockery because you can’t even put in a little effort and cooperate with me so I can mitigate the damage a little.”

Hyukjae is quiet, lips pressed down in a grim line and the silent that stretch between them is heavy and thick enough that Donghae feels suffocate by it.

Donghae scoots up and closer to the headboard, back pressed up against the wooden material as he waits for Hyukjae’s respond to Donghae’s plead.

His reasons are exaggerated and deliberately made to pick at Hyukjae’s open and always giving heart, but—he digs his nail into his palm—it’s also the truth though he woefully hates to admit it. His pride wouldn’t let him but that means very little in face of Hyukjae it seems, he thinks, embittered by that thought.

Hyukjae’s irritated grunt finally break the silent as he cards a hand through his hair in frustration and Donghae can feel his heart deflating and hope dashing but Hyukjae repositions himself until he sitting on his calves and facing Donghae. He suddenly lowers his head enough to touch the mattress, hands bracketing the side of his head.  “I’m sorry,” he says vehemently, the words are loud and clear despite him the muffled sound coming out of him.

Donghae feel a rush of happiness staining his cheeks but that’s not enough, it’s not a guarantee of anything. “You can either choose to share your bed with me or sleep the floor instead I don’t care what you do but I’m not leaving here,” he says pointedly.

Hyukjae raises his head up and looks at Donghae for a brief and tense second before he reluctantly nod his head, finally acquiescing to Donghae’s demand.

Donghae exhales a long sigh of relieve as he gets himself settle back into the bed, head dropping on a pillow and sheets pull up to his chest as Hyukjae mumbles another apology and settling down on the other side of the bed, far from Donghae because he’s Hyukjae.

Donghae doesn’t roll his eyes but it was very, very hard not to.

Just as he resolves himself to another lonely night, Hyukjae is closer but just as far as always, he hears a distinct, “If I—“ Hyukjae starts and bites off before he could finish it. Donghae turns toward him and sees the torn expression on his face against the light of the candles.

“I’ll kick you out of the bed,” Donghae promises and holds his breath as his hand carefully searches for Hyukjae’s own somewhere under the comforter and when Donghae lay contacts to it and Hyukjae doesn’t jerk from of his touch, Donghae could breathe again like he’s afraid Hyukjae would bolt if he’s not careful.  

“Then please do your best to,” Hyukjae says, the words sound light but there’s still a dark lines that marred his face and he doesn’t seem to quite believe in Donghae’s words or his own.

“It’ll be fine,” Donghae pauses and then adds in almost belatedly, “ _I’ll_ be fine. I’m like an ox.”

Hyukjae’s dreams are often terrifying and intense that he often explode in flurry of violence and all those that are close to him are caught up in it, but he knows that the only one who is more scare of Hyukjae is Hyukjae himself and the one who is hurt the most by it is Hyukjae. The bruises on Donghae are temporary but the guilt of hurting him will remain with Hyukjae even long after the bruises had fade from Donghae’s body.

Physical injuries tend to be shallow and short live but emotional scars goes much deeper, under the skin and imbedded deep in the heart. That is something no doctor and medicine can cure, and even Donghae can’t fix on sheer will alone.

Hyukjae smiles at that, a little crookedly and worn out but it’s there and genuine and Donghae would fiercely protect it as thought it was the last bastion of hope and love in the world. He could feel an answering smile about to break free but Hyukjae lets go of Donghae’s hand almost hesitantly, Donghae likes to imagine, and rolls away, turning his back to Donghae.

And just like that the moment is broken.

Donghae stares at expanse of Hyukjae’s back, which had always seem so much bigger and stronger than his own, but this close he seems small and fragile and closed off to the world.

He lifts his hand out from the comforter and stares at it. Just seconds ago he had Hyukjae’s hand and now he only has empty air. It is defeating in a way, Donghae thinks, almost like Donghae had imagine the entire thing.

He sighs and turns his head to the ceiling, looking for answer where none can be found.

It’s a long time before he hear anything again, long after Donghae thought their conversation was over now and Hyukjae was asleep but, “thank you,” Hyukjae says quietly. It was barely above a whisper, but it’s as clear as anything to Donghae’s ears.

The words were brief but the sincere gratitude coming from Hyukjae lingers in the air, heavy and warm pressed up against him till it consumes him completely.

Finally for the first time that night, Donghae lets himself smile.

Donghae may not be a soldier or knows anything about war, but Donghae is prepare to fight, to battle Hyukjae’s demons for him because sometimes in life there is something is worth fighting for and Donghae spent his whole life never knowing that feeling until now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mention off handed once or twice i think, that regency!hyukjae is a former soldier. the backstory behind it is kinda long and complicated but it’s basically that hyukjae was a slum kid who enter the military at 15/16 bc the military cover your housing/food/clothes etc as they send you off to war so for hyukjae who no money in his pocket and a sister to take care of it, he faked his age (which no one really care or check for bc hey more soldier for the empire!) and enlisted so he can send w/e money back to her and she will have one less mouth to feed. spent like nearly a decade fighting wars for korea until he got honorably discharged and went home with nightmares and haunted by the things he saw and did over there. 
> 
> so bc hyukjae went all over the places when he was in the military he has an extensive networks of friends and acquaintances and got very good at investing in new and risky businesses on foreign soils bc of them. so when he came back he make a lucrative business bringing stuff from the west to the east from his own supplier/friends that personally sell to him so that’s kind of how he built his legitimate ‘merchant’ empire (there’s also other stuff like investment, shipping, etc), his underworld empire… is another story entirely which i prob get around to to talking about it eventually when i write more of hyukaje’s more seedy business. 
> 
> ANYWAY, back to the point he got ptsd from the war make it multiple wars) and bc he’s hyukjae he refuse to talk about it and seek help bc he think he can handle it :////. hyukjae didn’t choose to sleep by himself just bc he is considerate of their situation (marriage of convenience//not out of love etc) and doesn’t want to pressure donghae into something he doesn’t want but also bc his ptsd makes his sleeping habit quite violent and he worries he might hurt donghae one day so separate bed and all. the ironic thing is that while the wars did quite a bit on hyukjae, he’s an adrenaline junkie who can’t stop himself from getting involve in the action so he traded one battlefield for the next, instead of hunting down enemy soldiers now he’s hunting down criminals/traitors/spies/etc for the empire as the emperor’s hound. it’s also extra, extra ironic that hyukjae is running places such a gambling den in seoul underbelly but at the same time stopping serial killers, human smuggling, etc in seoul. there’s a story behind that too *___* hyukjae is a complicated individual w/ multi facet char to him that donghae is only scratching the surface of. i think that’s what make hyukjae so fascinating to donghae who lives a pamper shelter existence. 
> 
> one of the highlights of this scene to me is that while regency!donghae isn’t honest with his feelings like putting up a fuss that it’s his reputation on the line that’s forcing him to climb into hyukjae’s bed when really he’s just want to offer comfort to hyukjae. so a lot of his posturing and saving face is all just for show even though hyukjae can easily see through him. he’s not doing it bc he doesn’t accept or refuse to acknowledge his feelings but it’s matter of pride i guess?? xDDD like donghae is used to ppl clamoring for his attention, he got a long line of suitors yet… his own husband refuse to even look at his way twice let alone share the same bed so lol it hurt his pride that he’s the one begging for the attention and doing the chasing for once. ISN’T HE JUST THE CUTEST??? :DD anyway hyukjae is totally affected it’s just he’s really good at hiding it or at least when donghae isn’t going full frontal assault on his senses haha.

**Author's Note:**

> i grew up reading things alone the line 'the duke's rebellious bride' so this is a love letter to it and honestly this has no redeeming quality whatsoever but don't care \\\\\\\o////. 
> 
> [1] okay so basic premise is: donghae is a lord (he has a title and noble linage) and Hyukjae has the wealth but no title to his name and a commoner. donghae married hyukjae for his money to save his family from poverty and hyukjae married donghae for his link into the ton/elite of seoul and to provide a way for his sister to married into the ton.
> 
> [2] hell’s pit is the seoul’s most infamous/notorious underground gambling den and brothel house and the man who rule is one Lee Eunhyuk… with no connection to Mister Lee Hyukjae of a reputable reputation of course. i can’t imagine running a gambling den/brothel house w/o having some sort of second identity b/c SCANDALS though many of the top ppl in seoul already know who hyukjae is but they are also the one who owe debts/often visit hell’s pit so they can’t say anything lololol.
> 
> [3] Vingt-et-un means tweny-one in french and a popular game played in regency england. basically, it's regency time version of black-jack! :D
> 
> [4] troublemaker!donghae is my fav even when he is all about being a ~proper gentleman, haha /o\\. also i love that once donghae got over the fact that he is some sort of 'gold-digger' he is totally okay with spending all of hyukjae's money LOLOLOL. donghae is really determine and a strong person but when it comes to feelings he's just really weak /o\\.


End file.
